| How can you prance about
|
| Knowing some go without
|
| The world feels like a horror movie
|
| And I know…
|
| There’s a bomb in Gilead
|
| Once a salve but now a rash
|
| Soft pelf and witchy men
|
| Stray voltage from high command
|
| Daywalkers through the golden ghettos
|
| Sweet Williams for the Fertile Crescent
|
| Pinioning for crystal herons
|
| You’re walking bags of meat
|
| And your life means nothing
|
| How can you prance about
|
| Knowing some go without
|
| The world feels like a horror movie
|
| And I know that you’re hurting
|
| I live by code without moral and honor
|
| Inappropriate dress and conduct
|
| I work for Division of Wealth
|
| Search for treasures at the expense of others
|
| I dreamt the intangible
|
| Prefabricate the unmemorable
|
| Minstrel shows for deafened jays
|
| Splayed the fog with fluttering blades
|
| Every aspect of human life
|
| Has been monetized and outsourced
|
| A chemical haze lilts the great circle
|
| Our memories thin with excellent reason
|
| Battledress and discrete worlds
|
| How can you prance about
|
| Knowing some go without
|
| The world feels like a horror movie
|
| And I know that you’re hurting
|
| How can you prance about
|
| Knowing some go without
|
| The world feels like a horror movie
|
| And I know you’re hurt |